


Georgia (On My Mind)

by faithfulpenelope



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bones has issues, But Jim has way more, F/M, Kid Fic, M/M, possibly alien maybe miracle babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-05 04:30:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6689245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithfulpenelope/pseuds/faithfulpenelope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They tell them it's a gift.  But it's much more than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“It’s a straight-forward assignment, Bones. We drop off the medical supplies, you make nice with the locals, and we go on our merry way.”

McCoy glares at Kirk from the bathroom sink. “Seriously, Jim. Are you trying to jinx us? Any time you tell me a mission is going to _straight-forward_ or _easy_ or a _quick in-and-out_ , I end up having to sew you back together.”

“You end up having to sew me back to together after pretty much every mission,” Kirk points out, and Bones huffs.

“You’re not helping your point,” he complains. Jim grins.

“You complain, Bones, but what would you do without me?”

McCoy rolls his eyes, joins Jim on the bed. “You go on a few less away missions, and I won’t have to find out.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Pa’narthians are, as far as these things go, quite pleasant. They’re partial telepaths, which always freaks Bones out, but they seem pretty non-invasive, unlike some squirrely Betazoids he’s known. They are grateful for the supplies – they are quite advanced themselves, but the vaccine for their version of the mumps can only be found off-world – and Bones finds the conversation tolerable, even if they do seem fixated on the topic of children.  “They are our greatest resource,” the Pa’narthian minister of agriculture tells him.

It’s about the twelfth time someone’s told him that in the last two days. He nods politely.

“Do you have any children?” she asks.

He’s been asked that about twelve times, too. It had gotten old fast.

“No, ma’am,” he says, and watches as her face contorts with pity, just like the others.

“Tragic,” she tsks. McCoy just makes a non-committal noise and excuses himself. He finds Jim in the corner, looking like he’s about to duck under the bar for cover.

“Do they keep asking you if you have kids?” he asks immediately.

“Yes,” Jim hisses. “I almost made up a mystery child just to get them off my back. Then I remembered they’re telepaths.”

“It’s weird. You would think they would just know that sort of thing.”

“Their telepathy doesn’t work that way. They see pictures, mostly,” Kirk says, and McCoy rolls his eyes because he read the briefing packet too.

“Captain!” Bones turns to find the Pa’narthian prime minister behind him, and he quickly clears out of the way. There’s a servant behind him, holding something shrouded in a gold cloth. “Captain. To show our appreciation to the Federation and to you and the Doctor for your kind help, we would like to give you a gift.”

“Prime Minister, thank you, but that is not necessary,” Kirk begins, his standard speech, but the prime minister waves him off. Kirk never gets through the whole speech. Come to think of it, McCoy’s not even sure there _is_ a whole speech.

“Nonsense. We are more than happy to be able to gift you something so needed.” He pulls the shroud off to reveal what looks like a silver pod. “Captain, inside this orb is a special gift, singular to you and the doctor, from the Pa’narthian people. We can only hope it brings you as much joy as it brings us.”

McCoy can’t help himself. “What is it?” he asks. Tries to keep the suspicion out of his voice.

“Ah,” the prime minister says with a soft smile. “You must wait and see.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As soon as they’re back on the ship, Kirk calls into Starfleet, who tells them they have no reason to mistrust the Pa’narthians, but it might be a good idea to put the pod in isolation until such time as whatever is inside reveals itself. They bombard it with every type to scanner they have but nothing can get through the casing, so McCoy orders it moved into the quarantine room in the Medbay, and they wait.

It’s three weeks later, and Jim is up to his eyeballs in star charts when his comm beeps.

_McCoy to Kirk. Jim, are you there?_

Kirk hits the comm button. “I’m kind of in the middle of something, Bones.”

_You need to get down here._

“It can’t wait?”

_Jim, the pod opened._

Kirk’s head jerks up in surprise. “And?” There’s a long pause on the other end. “Bones? What was in it?”

_A baby._

Jim squints. “Bones, I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to repeat that, because I thought you said a baby.”

 _You heard right_ , Jim, and Kirk notices suddenly that McCoy’s voice is shaky. _It’s a baby. A_ human _baby_.

Jim stares dumbly at the comm. Then he asks the most obviously question that comes to mind. “ _Whose_ baby, Bones?”

There’s another long pause. _Like I said, Jim. You need to get down here_.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“The baby’s ours, Jim.” They’re in McCoy’s office, having stopped to look down in the pod at a beautiful baby girl, with a shock of dark brown hair and bright blue eyes that seem uncomfortably familiar. Bones’s eyes are glassy but his words are clear. “I tested her DNA, and then I tested her again, and then I had M’Benga test her. I can’t pretend to understand the technology, but 50 percent of her DNA came from me and 50 percent came from you. She is our biological child.” J

im sits, heavily, his mind reeling. “I don’t – how – but why,” he asks hollowly. “Why would they do this?”

“You heard them, Jim,” Bones slumps in his own chair, leans forward to brace his hand on his hands. “All the talk about children being the greatest resource in the universe. They must have sensed there was a relationship between us. And when they asked if we had children…” he trails off, swallows hard.

“Tell me,” Jim demands. Bones lets out a shaky breath, looks away.

“Jocelyn and I,” he says quietly. “We got pregnant once.” Jim sits up straighter, because he thought he knew everything about Bones, but he doesn’t know this. “A girl. Everything was fine until the fifth month when suddenly…” He shrugs helplessly. “Even in this day and age, it happens. For whatever reason, the fetus stopped developing, and died.” He looks down at his hands. “For the longest time, I would think about what she would have looked like. And then that pod opens today and…”

“Oh Jesus, Bones,” Jim whispers.

McCoy just tilts his head. “There she was,” he says simply. “Except Joce and I both have brown eyes. The blue eyes…” He looks up at Jim. “Those are all you, kid.”

“Fuck,” Jim says stupidly. A baby. A Kirk-McCoy baby. _What in the hell I am supposed to do about this_ , he thinks. “Jesus, Bones. A baby.”

McCoy nods. “Yeah.”

“So what are we supposed to do now?” Kirk’s trying to keep his growing panic out of his voice but he’s not sure how well it’s worked. “I mean, what the hell do you do when someone gifts you a _baby_?”

“The hell if I know!” Bones throws his hands up in the air and Kirk glares, because the attitude is not helping. “You’re the diplomat, not me!”

“I negotiate treaties,” Jim says through clenched teeth. “Not babies.” He buries his head in his hands. “Fuck. Fuck. All right. I gotta get back down there, talk to them. Find out what the hell this is all supposed to mean.”

“We need to know if they’ve done this before with human DNA,” Bones says. “We need to know what to expect as she grows.”

That catches Jim’s attention, the way Bones says _as she grows_ , like there’s no question they’re going to be around for it, but he’s already got too much to deal with without delving too deep into that quagmire. “Fine. Send me your questions. In the meantime…”

“I’ll keep an eye on the baby,” McCoy agrees. “Just go get some answers.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirk doesn’t come back for another week. McCoy sends him updates on the baby, and he sends back what the Pa’narthians have told him, which isn’t much.

“They were of no fucking help,” he tells McCoy as he stalks into his quarters. “You were right. They thought they were giving us what we wanted, that we’d be thrilled with their little surprise.”

“Have they done it before?” Bones asks anxiously. “Every test I’ve done says she completely normal, but will she stay that way?”

“Yes,” Kirk says, and Bones let out a relieved sigh. “Apparently this sort of thing is a cottage industry for them. The technology is sound.”

“So I can take her out of quarantine.”

Kirk stops his pacing and looks hard at McCoy. “And bring her where, exactly?”

Bones stares back dumbly. “Here, Jim. Where else?”

They stare at each other for a long minute. “I have a feeling we have something to discuss,” McCoy says finally. Jim huffs.

“Gee, whatever made you think that,” he says tightly, and Bones glares.

“Damn it, Jim. You can lose the attitude.”

Jim just resists the urge to roll his eyes, because isn’t that rich, Bones telling him to lose the attitude. “Look, you really think it’s a good idea to move a baby in here? With the two of us?”

“I don’t see where else she’s going to go,” Bones retorts. “She is our child.”

“But we didn’t ask for her. We didn’t want her. She was… _foisted upon us_.” He sees McCoy’s face fall a moment too late. “What?”

“Maybe you didn’t want her,” McCoy says quietly, and Jim remembers what Bones told him. _There she was._

“Bones.” He swallows hard. “This isn’t – this isn’t that same. It’s not what you and Jocelyn had. You realize that, right?”

“I know that,” Bones says, his voice a hard edge. “Shit, I know that, Jim. I know they pulled an image from my brain of a child that never existed. But that baby in the Medbay? She does exist. And she needs someone to care for her.”

“I know she does, Bones. But – I just – shit. I didn’t expect this, Bones. I don’t know what to do with this.”

“And I do?” Bones retorts. “You think I expect to go on a diplomatic mission and come back with a perfectly engineered half McCoy, half Kirk baby?”

“I know you didn’t,” Kirk spits back. God, he’s so frustrated, and he’s trying to ignore that little part of him that just wants McCoy to give in and take his side like he always does, but it’s getting harder by the second. “But you seem to have adjusted to the idea pretty quick.”

“Jim.” McCoy’s got his hands up in front of his face and he’s breathing deep, trying to calm himself. “Jim. However this happened, she’s here. And we have to decide how we are going to move forward.”

Kirk takes a deep breath himself. If McCoy can be rational about this, so can he. “Okay. Fine. What are our options?”

“We try to get Starfleet to let us keep her onboard, or we requested a dirtside assignment,” McCoy says.

Kirk waits for him to continue. McCoy just stares back.

“Or?” Jim finally prompts.

There’s a long pause before Bones responds. “Or what?” he says tightly, his entire body stiffening. “What other options are there, Jim?”

Jim wants to rage Bones for making him say it. “Or we… place her somewhere,” he says finally. “For adoption.”

The look Bones gives him is incredulous and furious and heartbreaking all at once. “Adoption,” he spits out. “You want to give her up to strangers.”

“Not to _strangers_. To people who have been vetted. Who want a baby,” Kirk throws back. “Who aren’t the Captain and CMO of the Federation flagship on a 5-year mission through space!”

“Fuck the 5-year mission,” Bones howls. “Fuck the Enterprise and fuck the Federation. This is our _daughter_ , Jim. _Our flesh and blood_. And you’re telling me you just want to ship her off to the next Starbase for someone else to take care of?”

“It’s not that simple and you know it,” Kirk protests.

“It sure seems like it is for you! And you would think, you of all people -”

Something dark spurs inside Jim. “Me of all people, what?” he says. There’s a warning in his voice, but Bones just narrows his eyes in response.

“You of all people should know what it’s like to be left behind.”

Kirk’s face is hot with shame and in that instant he hates Bones for making him feel this way. “Fuck you. She’s a gift from an overeager government, no different from all the ceremonial statues and swords and chalices I get from every other planet we visit.” McCoy’s face cracks in pain and Kirk can’t help the dart of preserve pleasure that shoots across his brain. “We should hand over to Starfleet just like we do with everything else.”

Bones’s chest heaves, his breath coming fast and shallow from the shock of Kirk’s cruelty. “Jesus, Jim,” he whimpers pitifully, and Jim feels the regret crashing down.

“Look.” Jim presses his hands together, tries to gather the pieces of himself up again. “Look. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. She’s not just a gift. She’s…” He almost says _our daughter_ , but doesn’t. He can’t. “She’s a child.” He takes an unsure step towards Bones, relaxes the tiniest bit when Bones steps forward to meet him. “She deserves the best life possible.”

“She does,” Bones agrees.

“But, Bones, do you really think that’s here?” Jim swallows hard. “With us?”

“Yes.” Bones grabs his hand. “Yes, Jim. Here. With her _fathers_.”

Kirk drops his head, shakes it hard. “I’m nobody’s father, Bones. I can’t be. You know that.”

“I don’t know that,” Bones protests. “Jim, I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. I’ve never done this before either. But if you give yourself a chance –“

“Maybe I don’t want to give myself a chance,” Jim interrupts, and Bones looks up in disbelief.

“Jim –“

“I’m not trying to be cruel, Bones, I swear to you, I’m not. But I can’t.”

That knocks McCoy silent for a minute. “In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never heard you say you couldn’t something,” he says, and Jim looks away because it’s true. But the fear that’s uncurling itself through Kirk’s belly is unlike anything he’s ever know. A child, dependent on him. It’s unthinkable. “Why are you running away from this?”

“What do you want to hear, Bones?” Jim asks, and if he wasn’t so tired he’d be ashamed of how desperate he sounds. “That after a lifetime of being compared to a dead hero, I can’t take the chance of doing the same to another? That after Tarsus, I don’t think I can look at a child with your brown hair and my blue eyes and ever be satisfied she’s truly safe? Or that after 23 years, I’ve finally found someone I can truly trust, and I can’t be sure I can share that without resentment?”

Bones has this look in his eye, like he doesn’t know who Jim is, and it makes him sick to his stomach. “Jim, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. But you’ve never let your past hold you back before. You’ve thrived despite of it.”

“Bones.”

“It was hard for us in the beginning too, but we figured it out.” Bones means it to be comforting but it’s the worst thing he could say. He’s been able to come to peace with this, with his love for Bones, because he knows deep in his soul that if something – anything – were to happen to each one of them, the other would follow. But even he knows there are places a child can’t follow. That a parent can’t follow. “Please, Jim.” Bones reaches out, but Jim steps back, squares his shoulders, pulls out the captain in him.

“I won’t stand in your way,” he says firmly, his gaze firm in the middle distance, away from the betrayal in Bones’s eyes. “Whatever you choose to do, I’ll do what I can to help. But I can’t be a part of this, Bones.”

“Jim,” Bones begs. His face is flushed and wet with tears. “Darlin’, please. I need you. I love you. But I can’t give her up. Please don’t ask me to choose between you and her.”

 _You just did_ , Jim wants to scream, but he just nods. “It’s settled then,” he says. “When you decide what you are going to do, please let me know.”

“ _Jim._ ”

Kirk turns and walks away.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He does his best to ignore the gossip, the looks, but as big as the Enterprise is, it’s impossible to hide for long. The rumor mill serves its purpose in one good way: it only takes one well-meant inquiry about the baby and one curt response from Kirk for the word to spread that Kirk is not involved in the child’s life and, even more shockingly, he and McCoy are no longer together.

The junior staff he can deal with. It’s the glares from Uhura, the darting glances from Sulu and Chekov, the offers of rotgut from Scotty, the long, foreboding gazes from Spock that get him. He spends more and more time in his ready room, ceding the chair to Spock nearly every shift. When he’s not on duty, he wanders the lesser-used corridors of the ship, because he hates to go back to his quarters, where Bones’s clothes are still in the closet, where his pillow still smells like him. He finds all of the Enterprise’s hidden places, where he can go and cry or rage or just curl up in a ball and wonder about what’s become of him. His emotions swing, self-pitying one day, self-hating the next, furious at Bones for abandoning him at the same time he longs to run to his quarters and throw himself at his mercy. It’s only sheer force of will that keeps him in line while he’s on duty, because he’s already lost Bones; he’s not going to lose his ship too.

It’s luck, then, that he’s in his ready room, and not on the bridge, when he gets Bones’s first official notice: an application for paternity leave, starting immediately, to care for his newborn child, Georgia Eleanor McCoy.

 _Georgia_.

The name knocks the wind out of Jim’s chest, and he has to lay his head on his desk and breathe.

After Bones’s home state, sure, but Jim can’t help but think it has to be for his father too, and he doesn’t know how that makes him feel. Hopeful, maybe, that Bones hasn’t given up on him; angry that he has taken Jim’s father’s memory as his own; but mostly sad. He feels sad most of the time these days.

So he sets the feeling aside, shoves it down with everything else that’s happened in the last few days, and approves the request. He doesn’t spare a thought about the Medbay, because even in his fucked-up state he knows that McCoy would never leave it in less than perfect shape.

Then he puts his head down and gets back to work.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He may try to stay distant, but he’s still the captain, so he can’t escape them completely. He knows that Bones still visits the Medbay every day, the baby in tow, because he hears the nurses cooing about how cute she is and how different McCoy is with her. He learns Carol likes to take her to the observation deck when he sees her leaving there, and he knows from the crew requisition log that Sulu has installed a baby swing in the botany bay, where Chekov plays with her while Sulu introduces her to his plants. He knows Uhura and Spock watch her so Bones can nap – he discovers this when he comms Spock, and hears a soft cry in the background – and he is fairly certain he almost stumbled upon Scotty showing her the warp core, because who else would Scotty have been speaking to so softly.

The one thing he manages to avoid is seeing Bones with her; that is, until his luck runs out.

He’s taken to eating in the officer’s dining room, which is virtually always empty, instead of the crew mess next door. He’s leaving one day, engrossed in his PADD, and doesn’t realize until it’s too late that Bones is leaving the mess at just the same time, and it’s only Bones’s quick reflexes that keep them from colliding. They stare at each other for a long moment. Bones is in civvies, and is wearing the baby in a sling, and once again, Jim just doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel.

“Hey,” he says finally.

“Hey,” Bones says in reply. He clears his throat. “Uh, how – how are you doing?”

“Fine,” Kirk says automatically, because really, what else is he going to say. _I miss you so much it’s almost unspeakable and the entire crew can’t stop staring at me with a mixture of hatred and pity_ just doesn’t seem appropriate for the hallway. “How are you? And the baby?”

“We’re fine. _Georgia’s_ fine,” Bones says pointedly, and Jim tries not to flinch at the name. “She’s gained 8 ounces.”

From his tone, Jim extrapolates that’s a good thing, so he nods approvingly. “That’s, uh, that’s good.” He fidgets. “Good to hear.”

Bones just looks at him silently, his head slightly cocked. It’s his _what’s going on in that head of yours_ look, and Jim knows it well enough to know it inevitably leads to questions, so he clears he throat and holds up his PADD. “Well, uh, I better get going. Got a call with the admiralty about our upcoming mission.”

“Yeah, okay,” Bones says, and Jim turns to go, is almost out of sight when he hears, “Jim”.

He stops, and turns back around. He hadn’t realized until now that Bones is the only one who always call him that, that to everyone else on the ship, he’s _Captain_ , or _sir_ , first and _Jim_ only rarely. He hadn’t realized how much it grounded him, to have at least one person who always put him, and not his rank, first.

Bones purses his lips and his fingers stroke Georgia’s small hand where it sticks out of the sling. “We miss you,” he says softly. “I miss you.”

Jim thinks his heart might shatter, and he nods, because there’s no way he can trust his voice to not give him away. He can feel it, the same as always, that pull between them, the thing that brought them together in the first place, and he takes a hesitant step in their direction.

Just as a gaggle of junior staff pours out of the mess, noisy and young, only to stop and go silent at the sight in front of them. “Captain,” one of them manages awkwardly. “Doctor.”

“Ensigns,” McCoy says. Kirk nods.

“As you were,” he says firmly, and the group scurries off down the hall, no doubt to spread the word of what they’ve seen.

It’s gone, the moment, whatever was there, and Kirk can only toss off a quick, “Doctor”, before he turns and flees, because he’s gotten pretty used to taking the coward’s route in the last few days.

He makes sure he doesn’t watch McCoy’s expression as he walks away.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Something in the universe takes pity on Jim, because an emergency transmission comes in and the Enterprise is pulled from its assigned mission to add in negotiations on a small planet past Starbase 12. The negotiations keep Jim planet-side for almost two weeks. He’s never been so glad to be off his ship before. It takes some finesse but the two opposition parties come to a tentative understanding. Kirk isn’t positive it’ll hold – there are still fringe groups active in the countryside, bent on continuing the war – but Starfleet has decided they’ve delayed the Enterprise long enough.  Kirk is almost gone, about to comm Scotty, when one of the ministers calls him back.

He doesn’t realize it’s a ploy until he feels the sting of the knife in his side.

But the would-be assassin is sloppy, and Kirk’s security detail has him down before he could say go. He slumps down to the floor, hears his guys calling up to the ship for Medical. He breathes heavy through the pain, tries to focus on staying calm.

“Captain?”

“I’m okay,” he wheezes. Lieutenant Walker looks at him suspiciously. “Really,” he assures her. “Just get Bones here.”

There’s a flash of yellow as the transporter hums, and a rush of blue shirts, and Kirk relaxes a little, because Bones is here –

Except it’s not Bones.

It’s Doctor Opaka, the young Bajorian who’s taken over M’Benga’s role as assistant CMO. He scans Kirk quickly, efficiently. “The wound is shallow and the knife did not strike any internal organs. I believe it is safe to transport you to the Medbay for treatment, Captain.” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns back to his kit, and Kirk is grateful, because it means he doesn’t see the tears in the captain’s eyes.

The transporter brings them directly to the Medbay, and Jim is conscious of them cutting off his shirt, adjusting him on the biobed, but he can’t bring himself to care.

_Bones isn’t there._

The realization shakes him to his core, and hurts more than any knife could. Because Jim never thought, not for a second, it would ever be this way.

For the moment they stepped off the shuttle from Riverside, Bones has fixed Jim’s every wound, every broken bone and bruise. He’s been Jim’s personal physician and private counselor and everything else Jim ever asked of him. He followed Jim into the black and saved him from himself and brought him back from the dead.

_And how have you repaid him._

By turning his back on him, and the baby. _Their_ baby. “

Fuck,” Jim whines, before he can help himself. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.”

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Opaka says, dabbing more gently at his side. He doesn’t bother to tell him he barely feels it, that it’s his heart that hurts so badly. He doesn’t fight him when he tells him to lie back, that’s he’s under observation for the next few hours, because really, where does he have to go.

He’s been laying there for a while when the curtain parts, and Spock steps into the room.

“Captain,” he says evenly.

“Hey, Spock,” Kirk says.

“The security team has been debriefed, but Starfleet will need to speak to you.” He pauses. “I told them you are still recuperating from your medical treatment.”

Spock lying for him never fails to be a little bright spot in his day, and he manages a small smile. “Thanks,” he says, and Spock nods.

“Captain, may I speak freely?”

Jim groans a little inside, but gives Spock a short nod. His first officer clasps his hands behind his back. “I think you know me well enough to know I do not insinuate myself in the personal lives of my fellow crew members unless absolutely necessary. But we should speak about the situation between you and the doctor.”

Kirk almost tries to play stupid and say _Dr. Opaka is fine_ but he’s really tired, too tired to screw around. “Sure,” he says instead.

“He has become a frequent guest in our quarters, as Nyota finds much joy in watching over Georgia.” Hearing Spock talk about the baby so familiarly is another stab to the heart, and Jim closes his eyes against it. “I cannot imagine it would surprise you to know he is greatly distressed by your current situation, as I strongly suspect you are.”

“Can’t get anything past you,” he snarks.

“I cannot pretend to know the particulars of the situation,” Spock continues, like Jim hasn’t even spoken. “But I do know that this is not a healthy course, for you, the doctor, or your baby.”

“ _His_ baby,” Jim protests automatically, and Spock purses his lips.

“She is, in fact, your baby, as fifty percent of her genetic material comes from you,” he points out. Kirk huffs.

“If there’s a point, Spock, get to it,” he snaps.

“My point is, I believe both of you would benefit from a conversation with each other.” He cocks his head at Jim’s course laugh. “Excuse me, I fail to see the humor in my suggestion.”

“Of course you don’t,” Jim moans. “Spock, do you know what happened? I walked away from him. The baby came out of nowhere, and instead of dealing with it, I ended the most important relationship I have without so much as a fight. What in the hell could I possibly say that could fix that?”

Spock fixes him with that look, that one that says, _it is a miracle you humans survived at all_. “What if I were to tell you he has expressed great regret that your relationship has ended, and perhaps even a longing to rekindle it?” 

Jim sits up fast, too fast, and the world spins a little. “He has?”

“He says he tried to speak to you one afternoon, but you were interrupted.”

“In the hall,” Jim says. “Fuck. _Fuck_.”

"Indeed,” Spock says dryly.

“Shit, Spock. What do I do?”

“What is your desired outcome?”

“Huh?” Jim says dumbly.

“You are unsatisfied with your current situation,” Spock explains. “If you were to change it, what would be your desired outcome?”

 _I want everything to go back to normal_ , Jim almost says, but that’s not an option anymore. He wants Bones back, there’s no question in that. But Bones isn’t just Bones anymore. He’s Bones and the baby, a package deal. He says as much.

Spock quirks an eyebrow. “So the pertinent question to be answered is, can you accept the child as part of your life?”

 _Can you accept the child_. Jim huffs out a quiet laugh. _More like would a child ever accept me_.

Spock holds a steady gaze so Jim takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. Tries to listen to what his heart is really telling him for once.

“I told him I couldn’t be a father,” he says finally. “That after everything that’s happened in my life, that I couldn’t care for a child like that. The truth is…” He looks down, ashamed. “I was just too scared to try. So I walked away.”

Spock just doesn’t say anything, just waits patiently.

“I don’t want to walk away from her,” Jim says quietly. It’s a revelation, even to him, even as the words leave his mouth, and he feels something come alive in his chest. “I don’t want to be like my mom and my step-dad and everyone else. I don’t want her to grow up wondering why her dad couldn’t care enough to be around. Why…” he swallows. “Why she wasn’t good enough.”

If Spock has an observation about whether Kirk is speaking of his child’s future or his own insecurities, he blessedly keeps it to himself, and just says, “your next step seems obvious then.”

“Yeah,” Jim says, and his world seems to clear a little. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He’s halfway to McCoy’s quarters when he realizes it’s the middle of gamma shift, and Bones by all rights should be sound asleep. But his breakthrough has left Jim needing Bones now, even if it’s only to sneak in, watch him sleep for a minute.

Jim's more than a little surprised when the old code still works and the doors slide open.

"Jim?" He freezes, halfway through the entry, at the sound of Bones's voice. He can see them now, Bones and Georgia, in the rocker that's replaced the bookcase in the corner of the bedroom. Georgia squirms against the light of the hallway, the bottle falling out of her mouth, and she lets out a short cry.  "Damn it man, get out of the doorway," Bones hisses, and Jim stumbles into the room. The doors hiss shut and it's dark again.

"I didn’t -" His voice is way too loud, and he stops and speaks more quietly. "I didn't think you'd be awake."

He can practically hear the eyebrow go up in the dark. "So your plan was to just lurk in the dark while we slept?"

His mouth opens, then snaps shut again, because yes, it kind of was.

"Jim, if you came here to for a reason, then get to it. Georgia ain't gonna sleep with you hovering around."

McCoy's voice is full of bitterness. Jim feels sick because he knows he put it there, that he deserves it.

"Bones, I..." he clears his throat. "I just needed to see you. I needed to see you both."

"Uhura told me about what happened today. If this is because of that -"

"No," Jim says quickly. "Well, yes. Maybe it's what forced it. Bones, the last few weeks, I've been miserable without you. I can't begin to describe how much it hurts when you're not on the bridge, when I can't tell you about my day. And then today, in the Medbay, having another doctor work on me. Do you realize I haven’t had another doctor touch me in seven years?" His eyes are blurry and he swipes away the tears threatening to pour down. "Bones, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I’m sorry I walked away from you. That I turned my back on you and the baby.” He wraps his arms tight around himself. “I let my fear turn me into everything I hate. Into all those people who walked away from me. And then I did the same to you.”

For a long moment the room is silent, save for Georgia sucking at her bottle. Then Bones sighs. "Come here, Jim."

Jim freezes for a moment, then something snaps and he hustles into the bedroom, dropping down in front of the rocker. There's a nightlight on, and it shines just bright enough for Jim to see Bones, tired and drawn, and Georgia, quiet and content.

Jim thinks it must be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"So what does this revelation mean, Jim?" Bones's voice is steadier now, quieter, and something akin to hope sparks in Jim's chest.

"It means...it means I want to do this with you, Bones. I want be with you and I want to be a parent to Georgia." He takes a deep breath. "I can't lie to you, Bones, I'm still fucking terrified. There are times she’s still a theoretical concept to me, and I’m still not entirely sure I can share you without feeling at least a little jealous. I don't know anything about being a parent or having a family, and even if I did I wouldn't know how to do it as a starship captain.” He pauses. “But I want you to come home, Bones, you and Georgia. Or if you want to stay here - it doesn't matter to me. As long as I can go to bed with you at night. As long as we can be together again."

"Jim..." Bones looks away, down at their daughter. "Jim, do you get what you’re asking? I believe you’re sorry, I do, but what we feel means shit with her. It means shit if ain’t neither of us ever held a baby or changed a diaper before now, because she needs us. Do you understand that? That it doesn't matter if you're scared or angry or whatever else is going on in that head of yours?"

"Yeah, Bones, I do -"

"Do you really? What happens when some Klingon pisses you off? Or an away mission goes haywire? Or you’re coming off a long shift and she’s crying and crying and won’t stop?" He looks at Jim hard. "What happens when it's your birthday and you’re raging against the world?”

McCoy cuts to the quick like only he can and Jim struggles to keep from getting defensive, takes a deep breath instead. “Bones, I know I don’t the best track record, but I swear -”

“I know neither of us expected this, and I get why you freaked out.” Bones is ranting now, all his pain pouring out at once. “I’m not mad about that, because I was pretty damn freaked out too, and I haven’t been through half the shit you have. But I never thought that you would turn your back on her. I never thought you would turn your back on _me_.”

“Bones, I would never -”

“Don’t tell me you would never, Jim. You walked away from me. _You turned your back and you left_.” The words come out in an angry cry that surprises all three of them, and Georgia wails at the disturbance. Bones curses, draws in a jagged breath, and jiggles her gently, trying to calm her. “Shit - ssh, shh, I’m sorry, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmurs.

Jim just watches, helpless as he realizes the destruction he’s caused. The guilt presses down on him like a rock.

Georgia quiets again, her tiny fist wrapped around Bones’s pinky finger. Bones never looks up, just keeps swaying her gently, as he says thickly, “after all we’ve been through, I never thought it could happen. God, Jim, death couldn’t keep us apart. But you left us, Jim. You left me.”

“Yeah,” Jim says hollowly. He used to believe there was no such thing as a no-win situation but now he feels the defeat settles in his bones, making them cold. “I did.”

“Yeah,” Bones echoes back. “You did.” He swallows hard, goes quiet, and Kirk figures he might as well escort himself out. _I was so stupid to think I could fix this_ , he thinks, _so stupid to think I deserved this_.

“Well, it’s a good thing I promised you I’d never let you go.”

He’s so focused on his pain he almost doesn’t catch it.

“I mean, one of us has to keep his head about him.”

He looks up, slowly, and there’s still hurt and anger in Bones’s eyes but there’s hope too, and _love_ , and Jim lets out a jagged cry because he was so sure he’d thrown away any chance of every earning that look again.

“Bones,” he breathes out, and buries his face in Bones’s thigh because he doesn’t know what he could possibly say to make Bones understand how he feels. One of McCoy’s hands cards through Jim’s hair to the base of his neck, and tugs him up to meet Bones in a kiss, so needy and desperate it gives Jim chills. Jim runs his hands over Bones’s face, grasps at his shoulders, stopping only when a hand skims the softness of Georgia’s blanket. He pulls back, breathing hard, and looks at his daughter, really looks, leaves himself open to feel. The love hits him like a wave and he feels breathless from the force of it.

“Bones,” he gasps, grabs at Bones’s hand and squeezes hard. “Bones, that’s our daughter.”

Bones lets out a little sob, and Jim realizes it’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud, not _her_ , not _the baby_ , but _our daughter_. “Yeah, Jim,” he says, his voice wet with tears. “It is.”

“She’s so perfect,” Jim breathes, and Bones gives a little laugh.

“She kind of is,” he agrees. He looks down at Jim, whose hand is still hovering at the edge of the blanket, afraid to touch. “Do you want to hold her?”

Jim sucks in a sharp breath. He’s both desperate to take her and terrified to even touch. “I don’t know -” He pauses, checks himself, gives a quick shake of his head. “Yes,” he starts again. “Yes, I want to hold her.”

Bones doesn’t say anything, just stands and nods towards the rocker. Jim slides up into the seat, hands in his lap, and Bones pulls one elbow up into the proper position. “Just hold under her head and backside,” he says softly, and lays the baby down in Jim’s arms.

Georgia stirs, her soft eyelids fluttering open, and for just a moment she fixes Jim with a blue-eyed gaze. Then she yawns, curls up tighter and drifts back to sleep. All Jim can do is stare, because he’s been all over the universe, seen things more people have only dreamt of, yet it’s a baby that makes him stop in awe, and he knows right then nothing will ever feel more fundamental right than the three of them, together. _A family_.

He looks up at Bones, overwhelmed. “Thank you,” he whispers, because what else could he possibly say.

“You don’t have to thank me, Jim,” Bones says, his hand stroking across the soft curve of Georgia’s head. “You just have to be here.” His voice is quiet, forgiving, and Jim just nods.

“I will be,” he promises. He swallows heavily. “I’ve already missed too much. God, Bones, I can’t believe that I left you alone -”

“Ssh, Jim, it’s okay,” Bones murmurs, calming him just like he’d calmed Georgia. “It’s okay. That’s the past, okay? We’re starting over, right now, the three of us together. Understand?”

Jim squeezes his eyes shut and nods. “What did I ever do to deserve this?” he whispers.

Bones pulls him down to rest their foreheads together. “I ask myself the same question, Jim,” he says, his hand wrapped securely around Jim’s neck. “And damned if I’ll ever know the answer. I think all we can do is be grateful for it.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Four years later._

“I don’t get it.”

Jim looks down at his daughter and sighs. “The mission’s over, baby,” he explains, for what seems like the fiftieth time. “We’re going back home, to Earth.”

Georgia stares at him in a tiny little imitation of Bones, and Jim has to hold back a laugh. “But this is home,” she says, slowly, then looks at McCoy, as if to say, _can you talk some sense into this one_?

“It is,” Bones agrees, “and it isn’t. Daddy may be the captain but the Enterprise isn’t ours, it’s Starfleet’s. We were on an assignment, and now the assignment is over.”

“But we’re coming back,” Georgia stresses.

“Yes, for a new assignment,” Jim says, grateful he can give her a real answer. They’d all agreed to another five-year tour but it wasn’t until a few days before that they’d learned they’d be back on the Enterprise, all together. But before then, they’re planet-side as Starfleet completes a laundry list of repairs: an updated core, a brand-new stellar cartography and the official installation of a botany bay, because Sulu’s is spectacular but still put together on a wing and a prayer.

That, and the inclusion of a nursery and school room.

Starfleet may have fought them tooth and nail when they told her she was staying, but Kirk waged a war against the admiralty, pulling in every favor he was owed, until they’d finally said yes. And Georgia was just the first; there’s five of them now, five children who running the decks. Spock and Uhura’s son, Savin, two years old and already speaking in more languages than Jim can count. Sasha, Chekov and Sulu’s adopted son, an orphan from a failed terrain colony on Epsilon V, who shares his papa’s bright eyes and his dad’s unflappable demeanor. The twins, Penny and Charlie, born to Lieutenants McMichaels and Q’nar’zith-Pa, and damned if even Bones still can’t figure out how that worked. And their newest arrival, Thomas Leonard, delivered by McCoy in the middle of a firefight to Christine Chapel and her husband as the ship shook around them.

Georgia’s lip quivers, as it does every time they have this conversation, and Jim and Bones brace themselves for the wails they know are coming. “I don’t want to leave,” she cries on cue, and they both drop what they’re doing to comfort her. “I don’t want to go to Earth. I want to stay here.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Bones soothes, and a little part of Jim still sparks because she may be his sweetheart and his sugar and his baby girl but Jim, only Jim, is his darlin’. “But we’ll be back, and we’ll have brand-new quarters, and a new schoolroom with a real teacher.”

“Don’t let Rand hear you say that,” Jim mutters under his breath, and Bones snorts.

Georgia sniffs, but lets Bones placate her with a promise of riding horses and picking peaches – she’s never had a real peach, which gnaws at Bones’s soul – and he thinks just maybe, the issue’s been put to bed. That is, until that night, when he feels a tug on the blanket and wakes to see his own blue eyes mirrored back to him. “Wassa matter,” he mumbles, squinting at the clock. _2334_ blinks back at him.

“Daddy,” Georgia whimpers, and that jars him fully awake. Bones stirs next to him, blinks blearily in the dark.

“Jim?”

“Papa,” Georgia wails, and Jim yanks her up between them. She squirms underneath the blankets and sobs.

Bones pulls her close as Jim strokes her face. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I was in bed, and I was thinking about the Enterprise, and how we’re just on assignment here, and how Starfleet can tell us where to go and where to live,” and Bones meets Jim’s eye over her head and mouths, _your child_ , because that’s what he tells Jim every time Georgia’s brain starts running a mile a minute. “Does that mean it can send Papa on one ship and you on another?” Her eyes grow impossibly wide. “Can they send me away to a ship all on my own?”

“Georgia, _no_ , never,” Bones assures her the same time Jim exclaims, “no, baby, no, don’t _ever_ think that,” and Georgia heaves a heavy sob that seems to be more of relief than fear.

“How do you know?” she asks in a tiny voice.

Jim looks at Bones, but his husband just gazes back, waits for Jim to speak, because he trusts him with the answer. It makes Jim love him all the more. Nonetheless, he weighs his words.

He could cite regulations, which require married personnel first right of refusal against reassignment away from their spouses. He could say that the public is so in love with the Kirk-McCoy family that to split them up would be a PR catastrophe. He could promise that he and Bones would sooner resign without a credit to their name than be apart.

“Because,” he says simply, “we’re a family, and we won’t ever walk away from each other.”


	2. Chapter 2

It’s strange, he thinks. Just a few hours ago, he was sure he would never hold this baby in his arms. And now he can’t seem to put her down.

“She’s sleeping now, Jim,” Bones says, a soft smile playing at his lips. “You can put her in her crib.”

“I – yeah, okay.” The disappointment must be evident in his voice, because Bones strokes his cheek, lays a kiss there.

“She’s yours, Jim. You can hold her whenever you want,” he whispers, and Jim gives a little hiccup at the thought. “But right now all three of us need to sleep.”

Jim nods, lets Bones steady him as he stands. He lays Georgia down, and she lets out a little noise as she adjusts to the cool mattress. Georgia’s crib is tucked off in the corner of the living space, and Jim realizes Bones must have to go in his bedroom when she’s asleep.

Then Bones is pulling him into the bedroom, laying them down, and it’s like the whole universe resets itself to its proper order when he curls up against Bones, feels his body press up against his. “You know…I have that office in my quarters. I could clear it out, make that her room. If you wanted.” He’s afraid to look at Bones because he can tell Jim Georgia is his but after the last month, he still feels he might be being too presumptuous. But then Bones wraps his arms around Jim’s waist, tucks his face against the nape of his neck.

“That sounds nice,” he says softly. “She needs her own space.” He kisses Jim’s neck. “And… I miss being home with you.”

 _Home._ Jim turns over, winds his arm around Bones, breathes in deep the smell of him. “It’s not home without you,” he whispers. “God, Bones, I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know, darlin’, me too.” Bones tugs his hair and Jim looks up at hazel eyes so familiar, they feel like a part of his soul. “You don’t know how I worried about you, Jim.”

“I’m sorry,” Jim breathes, even as Bones shakes his head to stop him. “I know, we’re moving forward but I can’t – I’m just so sorry Bones, I need you to know that -”

McCoy cuts him off with a soft kiss and Kirk moans at the sensation. “I know you are, darlin’,” he promises, his voice wet and low. “I know. You’re not the only one who made mistakes, Jim. I’m sorry too, sorry I didn’t fight harder for us, sorry I didn’t try to understand where you were coming from.”

“You had more important things to worry about,” Jim tries to say but Bones shakes his head.

“No,” he says firmly. “Jim, no. Don’t you ever think you’re not important. There’s nothing more important than us, don’t you understand that? Nothing more important than family.”

“Are we a family now, Bones?” He means it to be teasing but there’s no hiding the hope in his voice.

“Oh, Jim,” Bones breathes, his eyes shining bright. “Don’t you know? You’ve always been my family.”

It’s like a flood, the love and the want and the need Jim feels, and he whimpers as he pulls Bones on top of him, as if his weight could keep Jim from being washed away. “Bones, please,” he whines, and Bones moans, captures his mouth, in a kiss that’s like coming home, being reborn. He surrenders completely to his lover, opens his mouth, his body, his heart to him, and Bones takes what he offers, gives back just as much.

Then McCoy pulls back and Kirk reaches for him with an anxious hand, but Bones makes a calming noise, kisses his outstretched palm, and leans down to pull off Jim’s boots, the Medbay patient scrubs that hang loose around his hips. Jim pushes up, pulls off the scrub top, reaches for Bones and yanks off his sleep shirt. McCoy kicks off his shorts and then he’s back and Jim moans at the feeling of McCoy’s skin against his. Instinctually, Bones’s hand goes to the pink patch of new skin on Jim’s side and he strokes it gently, lays a kiss against the smooth spot. “Never again,” he says hoarsely, and Jim thrills at the possessiveness in his voice. “Nobody fixes you but me.”

“Nobody but you,” Jim promises, gasps as Bones crawls back up, plants a hand on either side of Jim’s head, and drops his head to suck a line of kisses down his neck, his collarbone. “Oh, _fuck_ , Bones, please, I need you.”

“You’ve got me,” Bones growls with a firm kiss, a tug on his lower lip, and Jim shakes underneath him, the feeling burrowing down deep in his gut. He’s out of control, frantic, but he’s not afraid, not when Bones is there, his weight draped against his side and a wet, slick hand running down his chest, stroking him once, twice, before dipping lower and pressing in. Jim arches into the touch, a loud please, yes, dropping from his lips, and Bones pushes deeper.

“Bones, _now,_ ” he moans, prepared to beg against Bones’s firm need to open him completely but McCoy just groans, drops his forehead to Jim’s shoulder.

“If I hurt you -” he begins and Jim cuts him off, sweeping his tongue into his warm mouth.

“You won’t,” he assures him but Bones is already sliding between his open thighs. “Baby, _please_.”

It’s all the encouragement Bones needs, because he knows Jim only calls him baby when he’s desperate, when he feels he might go insane without his touch. Jim lifts his hips and Bones steadies himself, pushes into Jim’s tight heat. Jim’s mouth drops open in a silent cry, his legs wrapping around Bones’s hips to pull him closer, deeper. The burn is there, much closer to painful than usual, but Jim breathes into it, refuses to let Bones stop. “Jim,” Bones pants as he slides in slowly, pausing when his pelvis is flush against Jim’s skin. “ _Jim_.”

“You feel so good,” Jim whispers back, the burn fading away to be replaced with a deep pleasure. “You feel so perfect, Bones, God, I’ve missed this so much.” Bones breathes heavy against his neck, gives a short thrust, forcing a tight gasp out of Jim, and he almost laughs, it feels so right. “That’s it, baby, right – _oh_ – right there.” He feels Bones’s lips moving, hears his name and over, as if it’s all Bones knows, and Jim cradles his head to his shoulder and keeps talking, as if he’s making up for the last seven years instead of just a month. “Nobody makes me feel like you do,” he whispers, is rewarded with a deeper thrust, a faster rhythm. “Nobody takes care of me like you do, nobody fucks me like you do -”

“ _God, Jim_ ,” Bones moans, hiking Jim’s hips wider, higher, and Jim knows from the way his shoulders are trembling he’s fighting his release. He yanks up Bones by his hair, kisses him hard, has to pull away and gasp when Bones grabs his cock and strokes.

“Yes,” he keens, throws his head back against the pillow. “ _Fuck_ , yes, I’m gonna come, baby, make me come -”

Bones slams forward, twists his wrist, and Jim can’t help the wail as his orgasm rips through his entire body. Under his hands, Bones’s shoulders freeze as he comes, pressed deep into Jim. “God, Jim, I love you,” he whines, and Jim, suddenly mute, can only weakly cling to him in response.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It’s a soft sound in the quiet cabin that wakes McCoy, his already finely tuned reflexes further refined by the new baby in the next room. But Georgia’s asleep; it’s Jim turning over with a mumble that woke him, and Bones lays his head back down on the pillow, his eyes adjusting to the dark just enough to see dirty blond hair, inching its way past regulation length, and pale, broad shoulders.

_Jim._

When the doors had slid open to reveal him there, it had sent McCoy’s heart reeling, caught between fear and relief and anger. He honestly hadn’t known what Jim would say, an unwelcomed sensation after seven years of mastering the subject known as James Tiberius Kirk. Whatever he thought he knew had been blow apart by Jim walking away from him, and it was like suddenly learning the sky wasn’t blue, grass wasn’t green. Only Georgia kept him going, kept him functional, got him out of bed when every part of him wanted to curl up under the covers and cry until he fell asleep.

_Georgia._

He had known from the moment the pod opened and she let out her first cry that she was his, that he was hers, that nothing was going to separate them as long he was alive. Not because she looked so much like the child in his mind, thought he couldn’t deny that was part of it. No, it was that feeling of _rightness,_ the one he had tried so hard to find with Jocelyn, with his life in Atlanta, but had really only felt when he boarded a shuttle in the Riverside shipyard and sat down next to a beat-down kid born in space and raised in Iowa but destined to return to the stars.

He knew better than to think Jim would feel the same way, even as he hoped he did; Jim’s childhood would have broken almost anyone else even as it pushed Jim forward. He’d expected a fight, long negotiations, a hard adjustment period, but knew they would, eventually, figure it all out. Jim Kirk didn’t believe in no-win situations, after all; he didn’t give up, and he didn’t back down.

Until he did, and brought both of their worlds shattering down into pieces.

It took one night alone in his quarters before he was walking into the Medbay and transferring Georgia and the limited nursery furniture the Enterprise had to his room, because he hadn’t just let Jim walk away just to leave her there in the quarantine room. He’d swallowed his pride pretty quickly, accepted all the help that was offered to him; he may be a doctor but it didn’t mean he knew how to soothe a newborn back to sleep, how to keep her still as he changed her diaper. He was lucky that Georgia had an easy temperament, was contented enough so long as she was in someone’s arms, and McCoy was pretty sure there wasn’t a single crew member – save one, the most important one – that hadn’t had her cradled up next to them, cooing about her pretty face and soft skin – or, in the case of Spock, held her gently and gazed into her eyes with the focus of a mind meld.

He’d been as surprised as the next person by how often he suddenly found himself in Nyota’s and Spock’s quarters, given his relationship with the first officer, but Nyota was a trusted confident and a soft presence that soothed Georgia without fail, and Spock proved himself to be a steady, if unexpected, sounding board. The fact that their quarters were next to Jim’s – he wouldn’t have admitted it but he often lingered longer than necessary before hitting their chime, hoping he may run into the captain. When he finally did – not there, but in front of the mess – and Jim took the first step towards him, he’d allowed himself to believe just for a moment that they could be fixed. But then they were interrupted, and Jim was gone.

That afternoon, he’d let Nyota take Georgia for overnight for the first time, because he was in no condition to care for another. Not even Georgia could get him up that day.

Then Jim was gone, down planetside, which made it easier and harder all at the same time, because it was McCoy’s first true taste of what it would be like to not be in the same physical space as Jim. It was as wrong as Georgia was right, but it was his new reality, since it was becoming increasingly clear that if he and Jim were not going to be together they could not continue on the same ship. He’d filled out the transfer request, was ready to send it out in the morning, when Nyota commed him, told him Jim had been hurt. It went against everything in his soul to not immediately run for the transporter room and take care of Jim, but something held him back, a mixture of worry that Jim did not want him there and spiteful anger because Jim had left him, why should McCoy help him now.

Then Jim had appeared at his door, afraid and regretful, and there was nothing, not even Georgia, that could have kept Bones from drawing him close and forgiving his misdeeds. Whatever Jim may have believed, Georgia hadn’t replaced him in McCoy’s heart. He needs Jim as much as ever, maybe even more; loves him with a fierceness unlike any other.

There’s a soft cry from the other room and a glance at the chrono tells him Georgia’s right on time for her morning bottle. He slides out of the bed, ordering the lights in the living area up to 10 percent. Georgia whines in her crib, working her way up to a full out wail.

“Hey, hey, none of that, little girl.” Jim’s voice is soft behind him and Bones turns, surprised.

“You should be sleeping,” he chastises automatically, but Jim shakes his head.

“You don’t have to do it all yourself anymore, Bones,” he says, and his voice is sleepy but strong. “I’m here now. I need to learn how to care for my child.”

McCoy just nods, stands aside, because he isn’t sure he should be holding a baby with his hands shaking like they are. Jim steps forward, picks Georgia up with a gentle touch, and when she coos in response he smiles. It’s the soft smile of a father in love, and Bones feels like a world under twin suns, two bright stars warming him as they move in perfect orbit.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

If there’s one adage the Enterprise proves true, it’s that the more things change, the more they stay the same. At least when it comes to gossip.

Kirk’s message comes through to Spock just before Alpha shift starts, asking him and Sulu to man the conn, so that Kirk can spend some time with Bones and the baby. Spock’s response back is typical – a short _this is acceptable_ – but his next reaction is not, namely, to quietly tell Uhura what’s happened. Not quietly enough, though, because the junior officer at communications overhears and messages her friend who just happens to work in the Medbay, who confirms that Spock and Kirk were seen talking last night, and what’s more, Doctor McCoy has not been seen yet this morning. From there the word spreads, only to be confirmed when McCoy and Kirk enter the mess for lunch, Georgia tucked into the carrier on Kirk’s chest.

The entire ship heaves a relieved sigh.

(Later, Kirk will accuse Spock of being a hopeless gossip, to which Spock will respond with – what else – a raised eyebrow, but Uhura’s soft laugh will convince Kirk he’s right.)


	3. Chapter 3

The crew mess is strangely quiet. 

Kirk knew people would be interested to see him with Bones and Georgia. He knew there would be some stares, some whispering. He knew they would be the subject of conversation for the entire ship for a few days. _Again_.

What he didn’t expect was that the entire crew mess would go completely silent when they walked in, and _stay_ completely silent. 

He feels the eyes of everyone in the room boring into him, although they glance guiltily away every time he lifts his head. It makes him feel itchy. “This is weird,” he murmurs to Bones, who just raises an eyebrow. 

"You didn’t think they’d notice?” he murmurs back, and Jim frowns.

“I didn’t think they’d keep noticing,” he mutters. Georgia gives a little squawk from the crook of his arm and he jiggles her gently, but his movements feel jerky, unsmooth, and when she squawks again, louder, he can’t help but feel he’s doing it all wrong. “Look, maybe – they’re used to seeing her with you, maybe you should take her.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” Bones says evenly. “She’s your daughter, Jim.”

“I know. I know, but –” Georgia lets out a wail, her little face bunched and pink, and Jim huffs out an anxious breath. “Seriously, Bones.”

"You’re fine, Jim.” Bones leans in a little closer, slips a hand under the table, where it comes to rest on Jim’s knee. “You’re tensed up, and she can sense it. Just relax.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jim whines. He can feel it, the entire room judging him. “The crew doesn’t hate you.”

“They don’t hate you, Jim. They could never hate you. Some of them may be mad, or confused, but they’ll get over it.” The hand on his knee squeezes and Jim looks up, meets Bones’s clear gaze. “But that doesn’t matter much right now, does it?”

 _What we feel means shit with her._ That’s what Bones had told him the night before, and yet here he is, ready to run because of a few judging junior officers. _Get your shit together, Kirk,_ he tells himself sternly, and nods.

"No,” he says. “It doesn’t.” He lifts Georgia up, lays her on his shoulder and pats her back like he’d seen Bones do that morning. She cries once more, then quiets, her little body going lax against him with a soft sigh.  Jim lets out his own relieved breath.

“There she goes,” Bones says softly, a smile playing at his lips, and leans back in his seat. “Just needed a change of scenery.”

“Yeah,” Jim says, his shoulders relaxing a little. A little hand flails right in front of his nose and Jim catches it, kisses her fingers. “Yeah, I can understand that, kid. You get that from me, I guess.” 

“God help us,” Bones grouses, but Jim can’t even pretend to be offended, not when Bones is smiling like that, his eyes soft and wet.

"So long as you don’t get your papa’s grouchiness,” he mock-whispers in her ear as he holds Bones’s gaze above her head. A look of surprise flutters across Bones’s face, and it takes Jim a minute to realize what he’s said. 

Bones cuts off any apology with a look, reaches out to stroke Georgia’s hand, the one Jim’s holding, which allows him to strokes Jim’s too. It’s a subtle by emphatic gesture.  “Papa, huh?” Bones murmurs, his eyes locked on Jim in a way that makes him feel faint. “I like it.” He brushes a finger over Georgia’s cheek. “What do you think, Georgia? You okay with a papa and a daddy?”

Georgia’s hand squeezes around Jim’s finger. He knows in response to the stimulation of them touching her, but he can’t help but think that in some way, she’s giving her approval. “I think she agrees,” he manages to say around the lump in his throat. He looks away from her small hand, and back to Bones. His face is tired, worn from late-night feedings and stress, but his hazel eyes are clear and bright and he’s smiling at Jim so beautifully that Jim feels it deep in his chest. It’s Jim’s special smile, the one only he gets to see, and before he can even think, he’s bringing up his hand to cradle Georgia’s head so he can lean forward and kiss Bones. It’s gentle, chaste, but the most public act of affection between them since the Academy and that time they got drunk and kissed on a dare. He hears Bones’s breath catch and there’s just a moment’s hesitation before Bones is kissing him back, his hand over Jim’s and Georgia’s against Jim’s chest. 

But then Georgia whines, dissatisfied with her new position or the lack of attention, or both, and they both laugh, pull apart. “Really?” Jim says to her as he straightens. “Already?” 

Bones sighs. “I guess we need to get used to it.”

“All the more excuse to get naughty in the Medbay supply closet,” Jim murmurs with a salacious eyebrow wiggle, and Bones barks out a laugh before he can hide his amusement behind a broad palm. Jim grins. “Hey, that’s the first time you haven’t immediately said no!”

Bones tries to frown but fails, the smile fighting too hard for him to resist it, so it doesn’t sting much when he says, “oh, well, then. _No_.”

“Doesn’t count,” Jim sing-songs to Georgia, giving her a little jiggle, and she waves a hand in response. “I’m wearing your papa down, baby girl. Just you see.”

" _Jim_.”

“Uh-oh, he’s _Jim_ -ing me,” Jim says in a stage-whisper. Georgia gurgles. “Oh, sure, you say that know, but just wait ‘til he does it to you.”

Bones’s sigh is heavy and put-upon but obviously – at least to Jim – fake. “It’s like I have two children,” he bemoans, and Jim snorts.

“More like you had 415 before, and now you’ve got 416,” he counters. “I mean, you were basically already the ship dad.”

“Horrifying, but true,” Bones agrees reluctantly. “At least this one can’t report me back to Starfleet.”

"Not for a few years yet, anyway. She has to learn to talk first.” Jim grins, pitches his voice high and girlish. “ _Admiral, Admiral, Papa Bones was yelling at the ensigns again_!” 

Bones makes a choked noise, turns bright red as he shoves a finger in Jim’s face. “You teach my daughter to call me Bones, I will hurt you,” he threatens, and Jim laughs, hard and loud. “I’m serious, Jim!”

“I know you are,” Jim wheezes. “And you know I’m going to do it anyway.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake –”

“ _Language_ , Papa Bones,” Jim admonishes, laying a hand over Georgia’s ear. 

“I can’t stand you,” Bones gripes, but his hand is back on Jim’s knee, and Jim ducks his face to hide his amusement. “Should have left you on that shuttle and never looked back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jim murmurs. He hooks a foot around Bones’s ankle and gives a tiny tug. Hazel eyes flick up to meet his, and Jim smirks. “Heard it all before.”

Against his shoulder, Georgia gives a little cry. “Ah, we haven’t forgotten about you,” Bones soothes, and squeezes Jim’s knee one last time. “It’s almost her naptime. We should get going.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Jim says, makes a note of the time on the schedule he’s building in the back of his brain. He manages to get himself standing, looks up to see Bones smirking. "What's so funny?"

"You know how you thought the crew hated you?" Bones gives a side-eye to the rest of the room, and Jim glances up to see the entire mess watching in rapt attention. There's smiles everywhere, and Jim realizes he hears more than one crewman sniffling.

"Oh," he says, surprised, then admits, "I'd kind of forgotten they were there."

Bones smiles, the satisfied look of a happy man. "That's because you were taking care of your daughter," he murmurs. Jim flushes, a little embarrassed, but it's around his own smile.

"Yeah," he murmurs back. "I was."


End file.
